40 Thousand Reasons

I arrive at Ilevar almost on time, merely 3 months later than the Navigator has estimated, which for a Warp travel wasn't so bad.

Other people, like Admiral Spire for example, had arrived 800 years later.

He is still alive and kicking ass in the Gothic Sector, on the other side of the galaxy.

Sadly, Spire is too fanatical for me to contact via the Pharos sound board, and he would surely expose me as a heretic and whatever else.

The Hive planet holds huge celebrations to mark my glorious return, and the Noble houses pester me with invites and proposals of every kind. From pretty concubines to requests for an officer commission or mining rights or land grants, everyone wants something from me. I am fortunate to delegate nearly everything to my family, escaping for some relaxation time and natural gravity in the Blank enclave.

Here I meet the future of humanity, a small village made only of Blanks.

Many of my children, and their children too, as well as the local Blanks and their descendants are trying to live in a modicum of peace and civilization.

There are a hundred tech-priests acting as teachers and doctors and guards, and with their presence the valley looks positively modern and advanced, clean roads and buildings, electric lights and other comforts like swimming pools and shooting ranges.

It is a good start, and I like it a lot.

One after another, I also meet the next concubines, and introduce them to the joys of making babies.

Rose has instead taken residence in the capital, mingling among merchants and nobles and sniffing out plots and treason.

The lower levels of the Hives are almost clean and repaired, with constant patrols of tech-priests and servitors collecting gangers and other criminals as well as heretics or cultists.

The Genestealer cult has been smashed, but vigilance is always needed.

Even the pollution and other contaminants from the Ork invasion have been nearly cleansed, but again mushrooms are hard to eradicate completely.

Patrols and sweeps continue every day, lest the spores germinate into an Ork Waaagh.

Because Orks disperse a billion of spores when they die, and we have killed millions of Orks on Ilevar.

What I can do is promote Magos Minoris to a government position, overseeing research and education. We have a Manufactorum Forge ship from Estaban on the way, but until it arrives we can prepare the ground and train a tech-clan clade to sufficient levels to repair or even construct simple machines like trains and tractors.

I intend to make every world in my Fringe Empire self-sufficient in a hundred years or less, and Serena has been overseeing this plan for me, conducting immigration efforts to the more unpopulated planets, sending millions of colonists and PDF regiments to protect them.

Sadly, the PDF are poorly armed, using simple gunpowder weapons and explosives like stubbers and mortars, and few vehicles. Enough to deter a small Ork band or minor revolts, but not for anything stronger.

Time passes again, but this time I'm not hurting from age or injury.

I can spend a decade doing whatever I want, and so I do. Making new STCs and more babies. Every single day. It feels great to be a teenager again.

With vaccines and the new Biologis clade tech-priests taking care of disease and cleanliness, the Hive slowly become a bit healthier too, which increases productivity and wealth.

Also, 7 huge cathedrals for the Cult of the Emperor are being constructed in every Hive, just as Rose requests.

I am happy she has found something to do, beside terrorizing my citizens and assassinating dissenters or demagogues.

Sorry guys, there will be no equal rights and freedom of religion in this galaxy. Those who have power are strong, and the rest are not.

And those other gods will definitely turn you into Warp portals and try to eat everyone with demons or tyranids or necrodermis.

Our Big Adam isn't the best, but he is much nicer anyway.

Every month, I return to the capital for another Governor ball, and fake being in charge really well. Nobody seems to notice I don't rule anything.

Rose has five children in this decade, all girls and all psykers. But one of them is both a psyker and a Blank, and even seems able to predict things, which could make her a Navigator with enough training.

The Inquisitor is determined to mold her into her successor, because immunity to Warp is quite a big gift.

"My special Rogue Trader...what a miracle you have given me." Rose whispers after a few hours of frantic lovemaking.

I just hug her tight. "If you take Janice to Terra, I fear she won't be allowed to survive."

Rose freezes for a second, then hugs me back. "What else can we do?"

I pat her long black hair while I think on it. "Navigators are allowed nearly anything. And Metalica is working hard on my Grand Cruiser."

Just like that, in a sweaty bed behind closed doors, we decide to turn Janice into a Navigator. Ludvaius thumbs up at me, grinning like he has heard a great joke.

Yes, he still follows me everywhere, all the time. The veteran Blood Angel has become such a familiar fixture that I sometimes forget about him and talk about secrets.

I raise my head and stare at Ludvaius for a moment. "You never heard this, my friend. Or else." I tell him in my best attempt at a threatening voice.

Ludvaius thinks it over and nods. "Don't worry Captain. If one such miracle can happen, then it's likely it will happen again, for my battle-brothers." he replies gently, and pats his bolter with loving care.

I sigh and turn back towards Rose, kissing her worried forehead.

I haven't forgotten my promise to Captain Aphael, but sadly Blanks are not so easy to obtain.

Even the Blank concubines don't give birth to other Blanks every time, although the ratio is better than normal people.

Still, in a decade I should have a thousand Blank people in my village, and from there it will snowball into many more.

Already my sons are working hard with their own wives and concubines to produce the next generation, and with anti-aging injections they'll keep doing it for hundreds of years. Then every new generation will begin the task again, and again.

Meanwhile, my fleet trains and patrols the Trader empire, and chases off pirates or slavers. There are always slavers at the edge of the Imperium, trying to obtain valuable merchandise for mines, or even Drukhari gladiator pits and torture rooms.

The Dark_Eldar corsairs always plague trade lanes for raids and terror attacks, but fortunately not anywhere near, for now.

They are just as advanced as their cousins, but even more twisted and insane.

Justine is raising a clade of Knight pilots, almost 100 of them but with more on the way in Mechanicus gestation chambers.

Those fetuses which do not survive get lost in tech-priests' labs, possibly converted into organic components for Blank or normal Machine Spirits.

I don't ask and they don't tell, which keeps our mutual relations amiable.

Like I said, the peace and quiet lasts a decade, then reality hits back in force.

Estaban gets invaded by Chaos, and sends desperate pleas to everyone they know.

I convene the clan to decide what to do.

"We should sit this one out, Captain." Wentian says in a worried voice. Half of the clan instantly agree with him.

In truth, we did survive and prospered by avoiding demons and their worshipers as much as we could.

Victor feels brave, and his uncle Veryon takes the other side. "We have our ships, made even by Estaban. If we don't help, everything will be solar dust, and the Enemy will have a strong base in the sector."

I almost agree, but still feel a great unease and danger. "All true, but we have responsibilities here as well. Without us, these worlds will become feral again, and get lost to Orks or pirates once more. Volunteers may go, with as many ships we can spare. All the destroyers I'd say."

We have a dozen destroyers, 3 frigates and our light cruiser. Nothing we have would tilt the balance anyway, but 12 destroyers would be a show of force.

Victor volunteers right away. "We'll stop at Antax first, and see what else they can provide as help. And I should take few transport ships in case there's an evacuation."

I think it over and agree. "It's better if I join you till Antax. The Fabricator likes me a little. Then I'll travel to Metalica and Tigrus to find more help."

Everyone seems happy with my decision, and there are plenty of volunteers, both for crew and ground support regiments.

Each destroyer loads a tightly packed PDF regiment, though without tanks and heavy weapons they don't take that much space.

I hope to obtain for them Imperial class weaponry and tech-priest support, from a friendly Forge.

And we go, travelling through Hell to fight Hell itself on the other side.